


Christmas Junket

by alyjude_sideburns



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Christmas, Ficlet, First Kiss, Holidays, M/M, Moonridge, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyjude_sideburns/pseuds/alyjude_sideburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair, Christmas shopping, and of course, something goes wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Junket

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Moonridge charity auction.

 

 

Blair tapped his foot impatiently as he watched the woman ahead of him hand over a pile of checks the size of the Eiffel Tower to the teller. This was the regular line and yet the woman, clearly depositing business checks, had eschewed the merchant window and was now holding up the "We're just plain folks" line. Normally he'd have adopted a live and let live attitude, especially this time of year, but Blair was fast running out of time. He could picture Jim, outside in the truck, and swearing a blue streak because Blair was taking so long.

With a sigh of relief, he realized the woman was almost finished.  Unfortunately, at the same time, someone yelled out, "Hands in the air, this is a hold-up!"

Blair rolled his eyes. He did not have time for this. Like everyone else in the bank, Blair turned to look at the man with the gun--which in this case was pressed against the temple of the clearly "too old for this shit" guard. And wouldn't you just know it? The damn bank robber was dressed as Santa. Not exactly original, but Blair thought that might not be the best thing to mention at this point. Instead, he glanced quickly out the window, knowing full well that Jim was already calling for back-up. Damn, why did these things always happen to him? He really didn't have time for SWAT, Simon and then the inevitable report-writing. Well, he was a cop now, so he should probably handle this himself.

As the Santa Robber moved sideways while dragging the guard and waving his gun like an idiot, Blair searched his immediate area for anything that could be used.

Oh, now this was good. Sitting innocent as you please on the deposit counter, in the middle of the line and about two inches from Blair's hand,  
sat one of the plastic pyramids that proclaimed the bank's name. And encased inside the bottom of the clear pyramid--a ton of small silver balls.

This was just too easy.

Sandburg watched the man and, when the criminal's gaze was jerked left toward a crying woman, Blair snaked out his hand and, with the kind of skill that would have made David Copperfield jealous, palmed the item. A moment later, as he and the other hostages were herded into a corner, he made sure to place himself behind a couple of large men in order to hide the fact that he was slowly unscrewing the bottom of the pyramid.

"All right, you, the blonde teller, stay where you are and get ready to clean out the drawers. The rest of you, on the floor - now!"

Everyone dropped down--except Blair. Doing exactly as Blair hoped he would, the man inched toward him, gun now leveled at Sandburg's head.

"You deaf or something, Hippie Boy?"

"I… uh… I have a bum leg. Fake, you know? Can't really go down." He limped forward two steps and added, "But hey, I'm harmless. In fact, I'm afraid I'm going to throw up." He looked around frantically, hoping he looked ill and desperate as he said, "Don't really want to do it all over you…."

Santa grimaced at the thought and glanced to his left and at the trash can a few feet away. He indicated it with a jerk of his gun, and Blair chose that moment to let the small balls loose.

At the sound, the thief looked back at Blair and, face now red with anger, he moved forward and, of course, stepped on the balls. Blair had the satisfaction of watching the guy flail madly as the guard flew sideways and the gun spiraled towards Blair, who caught it. Aiming it at the robber, who was now flat on his back and blinking up at him stupidly, Blair said calmly, "Jim, you can come in now. We're secure."

***

An hour later, Blair was smiling as a grateful bank president personally handed him his withdrawal. The bank was already back to normal, the majority of police gone and the robber arrested and taken away. A report still awaited him, but Simon, glad to have what could have been a potentially explosive situation avoided, had taken his cigar out of his mouth long enough to say, "Monday.  Write it up on Monday."

Now, walking out onto the sidewalk, Blair felt at peace with the whole world, and just a tad smug. Until he spotted Jim, who was leaning against the truck. If his expression told Blair anything, it was that he was in a world of trouble. He felt the money in his wallet, pictured how he was going to use it, and went right back to smiling as he got in on the passenger side.

Fifteen minutes later, as they pulled into the Target parking lot, Jim finally spoke.

"You're insane."

Blair had been waiting for it and he was ready. "Am not. What I was, was almost out of time. Today's the last day."

Swinging into a parking slot, Jim asked, "Last day? Yeah, Sandburg, that's about right. This could very well have been your last day and will be if you ever pull such a stunt again." He shut off the truck and turned in his seat to face Blair. "Now, just what the hell was so important? And last day for what?"

"You'll see. You coming in?"

"You think I'm letting you out of my sight after the bank incident?"

"Hey," Blair said as he shut the door. "I'd have thought that by now, you'd have learned that you're the one we have to worry about. Not me."

Jim pocketed the keys and, as he joined his partner, said in wonder, "How does this always happen?"

"If you mean me always getting the upper hand in any conversation with you, well, naturally, I'm a genius."

"Real funny - not. And I mean finding a parking space. This entire season, wherever we went, we never failed to get a spot immediately. How?"

"The Sandburg magic, man. Always happens to me. This is just your first experience with it."

"Yeah, well, if that's true, I may have to keep you around a while. Which means no more stunts like the one in the bank."

Blair just snorted.

***

Damn. Jim really hated shopping of any kind during the holidays, but this place was… there were no words. He was being assaulted by sounds, smells, pushing, shoving, babies wailing, constant 'bargains' being hawked by an annoying voice over the loudspeaker and, to top it off, Sandburg had moved so fast, Jim had lost him. Which for a sentinel was not something to proud about. Okay, so pretend Blair was here, talking softly, reminding him….

That was better, not perfect, but good enough to find his partner. He concentrated and, while it took longer than usual, he finally pinned him down. In the toy department?

As far as he knew, his partner had no kids, so what the hell was he doing? Well, one way to find out was to ask, and Sandburg was always willing to tell, often more than anyone wanted to hear. Grinning, Jim made his way to the toy aisles, where he found his partner.

"Okay, Sandburg, what's going on and why are we here? And by the way? I had no idea you had a Christmas account."

Eyes on the shelves in front of him, Blair said, "Yeah? Well, now you do. And if I were you, I'd stand back, stay out of my way, and let me do my thing. It's for your own safety, man."

Jim had to jump back as Blair whirled the red cart around to head in the other direction. Watching him, he realized that staying out of Blair's way wouldn't be the problem, it was keeping up that would prove the challenge. In the next hour, he watched, amazed, as his partner went from a twenty-nine-year-old anthropologist to a six-year-old... elf.

Almost running down the aisles, cart weaving in and out and around, dodging people, products and employees, Blair reached, grabbed, stacked, played, read boxes, and piled the cart full of toys, books and games. He shook his head if the toy had too many parts and nodded if it proclaimed itself tested for safety. He grinned if it involved thinking and encouraged small investigative fingers, but frowned if it demanded violence. Blair's eyes grew round with delight as he picked just the right dolls for dreamy little girls and the cuddliest stuffed animals for sleepyheads. Jim noticed that Blair didn't miss a beat when he snuck a baseball mitt and ball into the cart, but he did grin when Jim added a regulation basketball.

When the cart was too full for one more toy, Blair headed, at breakneck speed, for check-out.

Almost thirty long minutes later, Blair was counting out the money he'd saved all year and handing it happily over to the overworked, unsmiling cashier, who, after one look at the flushed and glowing face in front of him, grinned foolishly.

When everything was bagged and back in the cart, Blair pushed it out of the store, with Jim, now slightly shell-shocked, following. All eight bags were put into the back and, as Jim put up the gate, he asked, "And this all goes where, Chief? The North Pole?"

"How did you guess?" As he got into the truck, he said, "Actually, you're now going to drive me to the Garrison's Family Shelter on Fifth at Sunrise. You know the place?"

Jim paused in starting the engine to stare at his partner, who chuckled and asked, "Surprised, are we? Well, don't be because it's only the first stop of four. From there, we head to St. Joseph's, then Station Twelve of the Cascade Fire Department, and finally, the lobby of the PD."

"Right. Of course." He started the engine and added, "This may not be a sleigh, but I can do a mean imitation of Rudolph."

***

Stop number one, the shelter, had Blair jumping out and grabbing two of the bags. Jim couldn't resist following as his partner walked to the back door where a grandmotherly woman whom Blair introduced as Mrs. Wellington, greeted Blair with a hug and a kiss.

As she stepped back, Blair held out the bags and said, "There's enough for two gifts each, Mrs. W."

"Bless you, Blair and you too, Detective Ellison." She looked into the bags, her eyes shining. "I can see we're going to have a lot of fun tonight wrapping." She looked back up at them and, with eyes misty, said, "Merry Christmas and thank you again, Blair. I don't know what we'd do without this every year. Take care, all right?"

"As always," Blair said.

Jim thought if the other stops were anything like this one, his macho reputation might be at risk. At stop number two on Blair's Christmas list, Jim nearly lost it as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. They went up to the sixth floor of St. Joseph's Children's Hospital and it was there that the children with life-threatening illnesses were treated. The gifts were turned over to a Pink Lady by the name of Millie, who, like Mrs. Wellington, seemed to be expecting Blair. As she took the bags they both handed over, there was no doubt in Jim's mind that several doctors, nurses and a group of Pink Ladies, would be busy wrapping for tomorrow's yearly visit from Santa.

At the Fire Department, no one met them or even noticed as Blair took one of the two last bags and emptied it in the large, holiday-decorated barrel sitting just outside the door to the station. Jim knew from experience that all the gifts would be checked over to ensure they met the standards (new, safe, and unwrapped), were identified as being for a boy versus a girl, and then wrapped accordingly and delivered by the men and women of the Fire Department and Social Services on Christmas day.

Their final stop was, of course, the Cascade PD where a barrel, similar to the one in front of the CFD, sat in the lobby next to the large, white, decorated tree. Again, no one really took notice as, once again, Blair started taking the purchased toys from the final bag and placing them into the barrel.

When the last item had been set inside, Blair rubbed his hands together and, grinning, said, "There, all done!"

Satisfied and happy, he stepped back and, consequently into Jim, who, with his hands on Blair's arms, said, "All done? I don't think so, Chief. I'm thinking that now… it's my turn?"

"Well, I'll be--"

Jim didn't let him finish as he spun him around and pushed him toward the doors. Once outside, and before Blair could get into the truck, Jim grabbed him, kissed him soundly on the lips and said, "Thank you, Chief. I do believe I've finally found the holiday spirit."

Blair licked his lips and, as he tasted Jim, said, "Oh, yeah, me too, man. Me too."

finis


End file.
